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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Nov 2, 2019 11:53:13 GMT -5
Maybe a few...?
You’ll see.)
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Nov 2, 2019 11:54:07 GMT -5
Ooooooh
I love dark and emotional stuff this is going to be my jam)
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Nov 2, 2019 14:44:47 GMT -5
Chapter 15: The Hunger Games
Waking up wasn’t exactly a favorite moment for Holly. But the soreness and pain wasn’t unfamiliar at all. Nothing really was at this point.
Though, when she finally opened her eyes after much attempt to just go back to sleep, she was shocked to see that the room only held a single source of light, was very tiny, and resembled what Holly could only relate to a literal marshmellow.
The ceiling? White and fluffy with padded pillow-like bulges. The walls? White and fluffy with pillow-like bulges.The ground?
Fluffy and white with bulges that resembled pillow.
It was a literal marshmellow room, overly tiny and not at all as comfortable as it should have been. The padding held hard. Harsh even, and didn’t relax any under her weight. Indeed, it actually hurt as the padding seemed to dig into her sides.
Finally deciding to learn more about the location, she realized that no windows, beds, or anything was in the room. Nothing at all was even in the room, just an empty little padded room.
She couldn’t even see where the door was. It was rather confusing to even look at.
So she grunted, sitting against one of the walls and curling up like a baby, her arms hugging her knees to her chest and her head perched on her knees, silky strands of ebony falling over her face.
She realized with startlement that while she was sore, and while she had cuts from before, nothing new seemed to have effected her.
So all she had to do was wait for the torture to begin again. Soon Louden would enter drag her off to some room with some guards, do electroshock, or use jabberjays to mock her. Maybe something psychological. Replay videos of people hanging.
Anything, she expected it. And if for nothing else, they would throw her some breadcrumbs to eat. Not that she was complaining, she was rather hungry.
And it was quiet. Too quiet for her liking. At least in the cell, she had people to listen to, she could fidget with the bars and tap tiny melodies, she had people to watch, ambient noise.
Nothing reached the box she was in. No noise except her breathing which seemed to pick up slightly in pace with mild panic at the thoughts.
Before she calmed herself. Soon enough, Louden would come, he always did. Even when she was alone last time in the hospital room.
The hope started dwindling when the hours seemed to pass by. Without a clock she couldn’t tell. But she did know time passed.
She just didn’t need know how much. Though if she had to estimate, she would claim about 5 hours had, then again, she had nothing to do.
So she voiced her complaints, “Okay, I get it now!” She called, standing up, arms crossed, “I shouldn’t have tried to escape! Why am I in here?”
She assumed a camera was listening, but nothing responded.
With an agitated glare, she waited. Counting in her head as the seconds passed.
With only her thoughts to occupy her.
—
The visits halted after that single meeting, and no more remained.
Alessandro knew at that moment that what he had let slip caused a vivid reaction. Louden didn’t want anybody to know what happened. That Everest got out.
And Louden surely didn’t want them to know where Holly was. If she was even alive.
Was she?
Alessandro never considered himself that close to the noirette, as before this all happened, he wanted her dead like everyone else. He wanted her gone, and dead, and everything else terrible he couldn’t imagine.
He didn’t care about any of them...
And now...
He shook his head, he knew Holly always had this fighter spirit to her, a rebellion brewing in her heart. It was so obvious in her eyes, in the way she acted and spoke. She didn’t fear Louden, he was sure of that. Holly never was afraid to voice her opinions before.
He remembered when Macaria attacked her in the arena, not even then did the District 8 girl fear for herself. That fear was for her closest friend, the one person she could still trust.
Alessandro felt a deep longing that he could have befriended her, that they could have been friends in a perfect world, that whatever trauma she went through wouldn’t have been there.
That maybe, just maybe, in a world where they weren’t put in a cage and expected to kill one another, they all could have been friends, been family.
It could never happen, but maybe it could.
Once the Hunger Games were over.
His eyes snapped open, as the door to the cells opened, his gaze flipping to the guards standing by his door. A burning feeling of hate hid in his heart, fear in the tiniest of amounts. This wasn’t the first time, and wouldn’t be the last.
Torture, for his slip up.
“Time for your session.”
—
How long had it been?
Days? Right? It had just been days.
Nothing more, nothing less. Maybe it would be easier with a watch?
Frantic eyes searched the corner of the room, wide and watchful. Did she miss a clock? There had to be one, right?
“They wouldn’t just leave me here!” Shrill, Holly’s panic was obvious, as she aggressively turned on one corner of the cell - Where even was the door? - and smacked her body into the padding. She crumpled to the ground, sinking back with a groan.
She turned her head to the cieling, glaring, “Why don’t you torture me some more? You’re not done with me yet! Right?” She screamed, knowing it wouldn’t be heard.
No one had heard the screams yet anyways. No one would hear them at all.
Had it even been days? Had it been less? Had it been more.
If she was guessing, truly basing it off of what it felt like, she would say years. But she knew she couldn’t live that long without food. She would guess about a week, maybe more.
She wanted someone to come, it was hurting now, it was miserable.
No one was coming. She didn’t know where her food was. Her water? No where to be seen! A toilet or shower? Neither were present, only a small drain pipe which she used, just so she wouldn’t have to smell it. Shower wise, nothing was there. She didn’t see a camera, and she considered herself good at spotting them, even camouflaged.
The worst? Nothing to do, no one to talk to. All alone just to think and think and think. Thinking about pain. About hunger. About worry and friends and family and traitors.
Mostly about freedom, which was so close at hand, and still far away.
She forced a deep breath, staring at the wall, focusing slightly.
This was all it was. Louden would come and get her soon, she was punished enough, she got the point now.
Well, she though she did.
—
Macaria had glanced at the television, exactly two weeks, she had been there for two weeks now. Time seemed to tick by way too slow, and she worried for the others. Alessandro? She knew he was experiencing something, possibly torture, as she had yet to see the boy since the last meeting.
She waited though, both Amadrya and her, for Louden to enter the room, for Louden to get Amadrya and bring her to the interview. One was supposed to happen today, Amadrya had practiced countless hours now.
But no one had come yet, and the time continued to tick by. Surely, someone should have came by now?
“What’s happening?” She finally voiced to the other girl, and Amadrya simply glanced at her with matching confusion.
Then without warning, the screen flashed on, and utter confusion filtered into both girl’s gazes. It was odd, though it seemed that after they escaped from the Capital, all Televisions turned on when an urgent screening came from Louden. Macaria explained this to Amadrya once, how it was odd, how random messages would appear on TV. That’s how they found out about the torture in the first place.
The remembrance to Holly’s screams brought Macaria a shiver. But it only increased when the camera panned to show a stage.
Her eyes were immediately drawn to the noose, a contraption built to slowly kill.
She couldn’t get the feeling of fear out of her system.
She had a feeling that maybe waiting was better after all.
—
She was tired of waiting.
She wanted out.
She found a small supply of water, it seemed clean and it was. It was clear, and at day four was when she noticed it.
The room leaked during storms, or maybe that was on purpose.
Day four, she had almost died. All that time ago, when she thought it had been weeks. It had only been days, she thought it over.
People couldn’t live up to weeks without water. Though, at that time, she was thirsty and dehydrated.
But now? Now she was convinced it had been weeks. Her body looked way too skinny, her bones too prevalent, not to be weeks. She had no energy, she could barely sleep any more.
The pain and hunger kept her up. Though by now, she came to accept that this was her fate.
To die, forgotten and alone, slowly. Very painfully slow.
She didn’t even realize that tears were rolling down her cheeks, and she wanted to care. It hadn’t rained for a few days, at least, she ain’t heard thunder for a while, and the leak hadn’t occurred in a while. Only a few drops a few days ago.
She couldn’t afford to waste time, to waste fluids on such a trivial thing, but she couldn’t help it.
“Stop crying.”
She stared up, turning to look at the voice, her eyes wide.
“Everest?” She croaked, frightened by the familiar words.
“I said stop crying!” He demanded, raising her voice at first.
“Everest?” She asked again, in disbelief. Her hands curled around her knees, a tiny protective ball. “Why? What?” She was confused, it was obvious.
“What?” Everest repeated in disbelief, before full on laughing, “You really thought any of us would come back to get you?”
“What did you think, you’re not special!” Macaria added on, walking closer to Holly, where did she come from? “You thought that we were going to be friends? Huh? What a joke, don’t you remember the arena? You thought that changed?”
“So what? It’s not a big deal now, is it. Who really will miss you when your gone?” Ari piped up, out of no where.
Halina? “You think heroic acts will do any good? You’re the reason Everest and Amadrya ever ended up in this situation. It should have just been you!”
“You never told them though, did you?” Alessandro said next, sitting next to her with his dumb grin. “What else did that note say, Holly?”
The note?
She blinked, staring up, eyes wide. How did they know about the note?
“The note, Holly.” Holly almost bristled at the voice, glaring at Amadrya. “Don’t you remember, I wasn’t the first one to really betray our friends.”
“No, no, no!” Holly found herself panicking, “How did you even find out?”
“Easy, Holly.” She froze, not him. Anybody but him. Yet it was, she found as she looked up, “You kept it in that dumb amulet of yours, all folded up.”
“I did it to protect you!” She yelled, “All of you! That note was to me. It was mine to find! At least I knew how to handle it!”
“Did you?” Burton shot back, before frowning deeply, “You kept it to yourself, now look where you are.”
“At least your safe.” She whimpered, closing her eyes.
“Are we?” He questioned, softer, “Is it really safety if you were gone? We need each other. We all do. And nothing would have been accomplished if you died.”
“So what, you didn’t need to see it, the note.”
“Holly, they threatened you in it. Don’t tell me that it’s not important.”
“It’s not important,” she whispered, opening her eyes, but nothing was there. Her eyes met the floor with a sigh, and she felt all of her energy evaporate into thin air.
Everything buzzed out after that, only figments of hysteria remained.
—
Burton was worried. As the most charismatic of all of the teens left, especially out of the 4, it was decided that he would fulfill Halina’s plot.
He was nervous, though. Today was the day to set it into motion. To get everyone back. And it was all riding on him.
“Don’t be nervous,” Ari whispered, messing with Burton’s hair to get it in a fancier style, and Burton blinked, the contacts felt odd, setting in his eyes like the foreign object they were. “Everything will be fine,”
Without warning, the television channel seemed to change, static for a moment. Everyone’s eyes fell to it, a hush falling over the room.
Then it cleared, showing the square just outside the window, blocks from the main building. Usually, interviews would happen on these days.
Instead, though, there was a noose, a stage specially built.
“What-?” Burton began, before his eyes fell to Louden, who was walking onto the stage.
“People of Panem, it has been brought to my attention that an example must be set. Actions are not without consequences,”
White noise, it became white noise, silence and white noise.
Behind Louden, someone was being led to the stage, without handcuffs, without anything. The face held many bruises and cuts.
“Alessandro!” Burton winced at the cry of a mother behind him.
Louden smirked at the camera, as the boy was led by chains towards the noose.
“Sentenced to death by hanging.”
He vaguely heard Everest behind him, coaxing Halina.
Partly because he was already out the door by the time Louden got the words out of his mouth.
—
Alessandro stared at the crowd, glaring at Louden as he stood, slightly frightened, but angry moreso.
“Any last words?” The tyrant questioned, glaring at him, with angry eyes and a hateful face. Looking so proud, like he won some jackpot.
“Yeah,” Alessandro grumbled, hissing slightly, proud still, turning to face the crowd.
“Good riddance!” He spat. Though it was almost cut short as the stage bellow him dropped, and he squirmed, fighting against the restraint.
Fear, wild and instinct, kicked into his veins.
He knew where to look, he had to look up. Look up at the building.
So he did, he couldn’t breath, but he had to calm down, so he looked up, staring at the building, he could see Halina’s wide, tearful eyes.
He couldn’t stand it, so he looked elsewhere, at the camera. He begged that Macaria wasn’t watching this, but just in case.
“I love you” he mouthed, weakly. Though, maybe it wasn’t only to her. Maybe it was to every broken friendship he could have repaired. The future, the family he could have had. Maybe it was to his mom, his poor mom, whose advise he took for granted.
Maybe it was to Amadrya, who pushed him to question his morals. Maybe Halina, who he came to see as a little sister when they escaped. Maybe Everest, who kept him alive to this point. Or Burton? Burton who taught him humor. Ari, who showed him it was okay to be human. Maybe Holly for her fighting spirit.
Or maybe it was Macaria, for the love she gave him, for her inspiration to be better, to change. To be loyal.
Maybe it was all of them, so he just smiled as fought to have the last moments of his life be good ones. Because he was a fighter and he wouldn’t die letting Louden think he won.
He spotted a redhead move to stand beside Louden, staring at him too, before she whispered lowly into the microphone.
“Let the 91rst Hunger Games begin,” chimed in a voice, the girl from 12, standing beside Louden.
Oddly enough, she wasn’t grinning this time.
Regardless, Alessandro couldn’t care less, and soon the boy from 1 was hanging from the thread, limp.
Too bad there wasn’t a canon to signify his death.
(I feel like that was poorly written and I am sorry. Beware of mistakes and such, it is a bit rushed but I’m still happy with it. And if it isn’t sad enough, I’m sorry. I’m pretty sure I suck at writing sad stuff. So whoops.) |
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Nov 2, 2019 14:45:35 GMT -5
Ooh I’m at a thing but I’ll read this later)
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Nov 2, 2019 15:15:08 GMT -5
Oh my gosh that was amazing!
I have to write some of this from Macaria‘a perspective. Maybe Burton too, or Maddie’s I could do either of them)
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Nov 2, 2019 15:54:08 GMT -5
I'd love to see that!)
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Nov 2, 2019 16:02:50 GMT -5
It was so sad but awesome, poor Alessandro. I don’t know who I expected to die but I’m still surprised. It was so sad
I am gonna write Macaria first for this)
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Nov 2, 2019 16:06:36 GMT -5
Yeah. It was originally someone else. But something opened my eyes to the fact that the original character could have somw really interesting interactions that I wanted to include later on.
Plus, his death sets a lot into place.)
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Nov 2, 2019 16:08:00 GMT -5
It really does, I didn’t realise how perfect it is as a plot point
I don’t know how you’re intending Macaria to react in the fic universe, but I’m playing with the idea of her going super cold and cruel again. Reverting back to her old self but x10. I’m gonna write it as if that’s her reaction because it’s fun)
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Nov 2, 2019 16:35:12 GMT -5
Two weeks. But it might as well have been years.
I know that there is meant to be an interview today. Amadrya has been pacing relentlessly for hours at a time, muttering lines as if she’s losing her mind. And to be honest, she might be, and I don’t blame her. I’ve been helping her learn these lines (not like I have anything better to do) and they make even me feel sick and I played this game Amadrya is playing for years, in my own way.
Some things don’t change, I guess.
I ask Amadrya what’s happening, because they should have come to get her by now, but she is just as confused as I am. Silence like this is more unsettling than anything else they do, it makes my stomach turn in knots.
But if I think the uncertainty is bad, it’s nothing compared to what comes next.
The screen turns on, and it’s gallows, the noose swaying gently in a light breeze. I know what is going to happen even before Louden steps onto the screen, but he does.
I don’t even really hear what he says, because I’m stunned into instant silent tears by the figure being pulled into screen behind him. Alessandro, beaten and hurt. But still so proud, still so strong, still so defiant.
And I’ll never get to tell him that I love him, that I’m proud of him. Thanking him for everything he did for me, the person he made me.
I do listen to him, though, as he speaks his defiant words. And again I’m proud of him, but again my heart is breaking. Does he know I love him? We never said it. What if he dies thinking what we had was just idle flirting? Or worse, manipulation on my part?
Seeing him in pain was awful enough, but seeing him with the noose around his neck is more than I can bear, and the tears flow more heavily.
And that’s when he looks at the camera, and it’s like he’s looking at me. And he mouths three words.
“I love you.”
I can’t look then, I try to turn away, I try to look down, to close my eyes. Anything. But through my tears I speak in return.
“I love you too.”
We said it. Whether he meant it for me or not, I mean it for him. I hope he knows he’s loved. This can’t be happening. It can’t, it just can’t. He’s not meant to die, he can’t. He deserves so much better, he always has deserved better.
And then, as I look at the screen again, I see the stage drop, and a choked, distraught scream fills the room that almost sounds like a voice I don’t recognise but which I know must be me, because it’s not Amadrya.
I sob undestrainedly for a few moments, and in my anger and hysteria I rise and kick the chair I was just sitting on, sending it flying across the room before suddenly finding myself sitting on the floor, resting my head on my knees as I cry.
This isn’t right, it’s too real. This isn’t meant to happen. I tried so hard to be good, so did he. We made our sacrifices, we paid the price we were meant to pay, so why are we paying again? Why did we sacrifice for?
It sure as hell doesn’t seem like it’s worth it.
I fall silent, empty of tears and now filling with an old feeling I recognise.
“I’m sick of paying,” I mutter “paying again and again just to suffer for it.”
It doesn’t make a difference. Whether bad or good, we pay anyway. I lost people anyway. Alessandro died anyway. We’re all suffering anyway.
What’s it for? What’s the point, why be good if all it brings is pain?
I let myself genuinely care about people for the first time since my family, I dared to think I might be able to make a difference, and this is what I have to show for it.
Alessandro’s gone. Who do I have to keep me grounded anymore?
I don’t have to worry about him getting hurt anymore, I have nothing to lose.
And so I don’t care whether Alessandro would want this or not, I’m going to make the Capitol pay for what they did. I will not be silent anymore.
If I have to lie again, if I have to manipulate and pretend again, I will. I’m filled with a rage far more intense than any I’ve felt anymore, because I know that if I do nothing Alessandro’s sacrifice will have been in vain. I can’t let that happen. And if I die too, well I don’t care. Some people are worth sacrificing for.
I feel cold and empty again, I feel my body tending, my hands forming fists.
When I lift my head again and raise my eyes to meet the screen, they’ve got the same sharpness they used to have before, but it’s deeper. More vicious, darker, dangerous, cold.
Let the 91st Hunger Games begin, indeed.
Don’t forget there’s still a Career in the game.
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Nov 4, 2019 15:28:26 GMT -5
Also, No Matter What They Say (Svrcina) seems to fit quite well with the vibe in the fic rn)
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Nov 4, 2019 16:29:59 GMT -5
(Oh I’m checking that out.)
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Nov 4, 2019 16:32:58 GMT -5
Oh yay! Hope you like it. It just reminds me of them running through the prison
Also hey!)
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Nov 4, 2019 16:41:43 GMT -5
(Hello :3.)
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Nov 4, 2019 16:43:08 GMT -5
How’s it going? I hope your day is going well)
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Nov 4, 2019 16:51:01 GMT -5
(Stayed home sick today, actually.
Regardless, I’m feeling a bit better, and you?)
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Nov 4, 2019 16:53:27 GMT -5
Oh no! Feel better soon <3
I’m pretty good thanks, just busy x
Possibly might do more writing soon but I need to figure out what I wanna write!)
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Nov 4, 2019 16:55:00 GMT -5
(Thanks!
I’m thinking about what to write to. I have the next chapter mostly done...
Reminds me. Synopsis bellow in the spoiler!
Other than that, anything you want to see?)
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Nov 4, 2019 16:56:35 GMT -5
Chapter 16: What it Takes to be a True Hero
Facing the possible fates that may impact his friends, Burton decides to act despite his fears.
(This may be one of my favorite chaoter yet, to be honest.) |
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Nov 4, 2019 16:57:45 GMT -5
Ooh exciting! I can’t wait
Hmmm I love whatever you write!
Yeah I need to decide what I wanna write. See like I enjoyed writing that Macaria thing though I’m not completely happy with it but now idk what to write. I’ll wait and see what inspiration hits me but let me know what you want to see!)
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Nov 4, 2019 16:59:40 GMT -5
Oooh brave Burton? I’m excited
Because I haven’t put much focus on the fact that he’s actually pretty freakin’ tough and resilient (even though he’s not a gifted fighter) so this should be interesting
I will probably do some writing inspired by this afterwards!
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Nov 4, 2019 17:24:21 GMT -5
I low key have this idea that while he isn’t the best fighter, he can be an absolute beast when need be.
Other than that, I do have another possible miniseries.
Possible options:
- Different Winner AU: someone other than Burton wins the games, it can be anybody, or maybe up to 2 people, and will follow a possible tale of what they would become, and how they would live. This would include the games(how they came to win, what changed) and after(who they became). I may end up doing this for a few different characters, if anyone’s interested.
- Multiwinner AU: Same idea, but instead of one, we have a 74 Games repeat from the book, but maybe different situation. Burton can be one of the 2 or 3 but I thought this could be unique to look at too. It would follow the same basic ideas, before, during and after.
- Highschool/No Game AU: Either no games, or they aren’t reaped. This would look at the characters as normal teens, but probably the same basic backgrounds.
Happy Ending AU: Looks at a happy ending to the fic where everyone lives. This would explore the change and the interactions between characters.
Fantasy AU: This could go almost anywhere. This would follow one normal character(one of the 8) or a few of them are normal, and run into some either paranormal or supernatural creatures that they end up befriending in their quest to live as they are being hunted down by Louden and Robin, two members of a mob/cult that are targeting them for whatever reason.
Anyways, the characters in each of these would be up to us to design.)
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Nov 4, 2019 17:26:52 GMT -5
Oh yeah no I have that exact same thought he’s an absolute beast, especially if his friends are involved. My theory is that he didn’t get to be the winner for nothing
Oooh I absolutely adore all of those miniseries! And yeah I love the idea of Burton not winning, I want the characters who we designed knowing they’d die to win because that feels super poetic.
Anyway I’m probably gonna go to bed now but I’ll get maybe some writing up tomorrow)
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Nov 4, 2019 19:35:02 GMT -5
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Nov 4, 2019 21:45:25 GMT -5
Got woken up at 3 am XD
Going back to sleep now but I liked that!)
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Nov 6, 2019 10:43:54 GMT -5
(just exploring something where Macaria doesn’t react in the reverting-to-her-old-self reaction. I still think the first reaction is more accurate to what she’d do)
Macaria has been silent for a long time.
It’s not like I can blame her. God knows that if it were me I would be the same. I mean, I’m grieving too, and I didn’t even really know Alessandro. I certainly didn’t love him, not the way Macaria did.
It still doesn’t feel real. I remember rolling my eyes with Everest as we’d watch them flirting in the Arena. We’d be walking through the abandoned city and Macaria would playfully nudge him with her hip, or maybe she’d lean to whisper something in his ear, rising a little on her tiptoes. Sometimes when we’d made camp for the night, if the two were on watch at the same time, they would lie and stare up at the top of the Arena, holding hands. Stargazing with the fake stars.
They were more in love than I gave them credit for.
But now I look at Macaria, who is lying on the bed facing away from me, staring at the wall. I don’t need to see her face to know that her eyes are red with crying. I’ve tried to comfort her, but I know there is nothing I can do. She needs to feel this pain. All I can do is be there for her.
I have my own worries now, as well. If he has killed Alessandro, what does that mean? It’s obviously a message to the rebels, but does this mean he is going to hurt Everest too? Holly? Macaria? What does this mean for the interviews?
Will I have to stand in front of a camera and talk about how Alessandro deserved to die? How all of my friends deserve execution too?
Perhaps that’s why Macaria is here. He knew he was going to kill Alessandro, and if I do an interview justifying his execution she’d kill me the second I got back to the room. Louden wouldn’t have to executes me publicly, and it’d prove Macaria a savage rebel and give him an excuse to kill her too. Or maybe not. Maybe he just wants to make my friends hate me even more, maybe it’s to drive me to madness with guilt.
I have to do whatever I can to keep my friends safe. The thing is, Louden found another loophole. Because Macaria and Alessandro weren’t part of our deal. That means Macaria is fair game now, which means that unless I can do something I predict that she’s next for the scaffold.
Unless I outlive my purpose first, in which case Louden can scrap our deal anytime he likes. Or just execute me.
I move to sit next to Macaria, because I can see by the movement of her shoulders that she’s silently crying again. Gently, but maybe a little awkwardly, I put a hand on her upper arm.
“It just hurts so bad,” I hear her voice, quietly.
“I know,” I say sympathetically
She doesn’t need to say anything for me to know that she doesn’t believe that I know. She tenses and I know that to her my words sound fake. Which is fair because while I’ve lost people before, I’ve never lost a lover. If Everest is really here, I know I might do. But I try not to think about that. And I know Macaria has lost people before too, but this is fresh pain for her. It doesn’t get easier.
There are another few moments of silence before she speaks up again, and the question she asks is heartbreaking.
“Is this what I did to all those families?” she asks
“What?”
“When I killed, in the Arena. Is this what Carlo’s family felt? The others?”
And I don’t know what to say to that, because the answer is yes. But we both know she already knows that, and telling her that isn’t going to change anything.
“Don’t bother answering,” she says with a sigh “I know. I know what I did. I knew when I did it.”
“Macaria, you’re not a monster,” I say softly “you were just trying to survive.”
“Yeah.,” she says “but no matter what I do, people get hurt. The people I care about pay whether I try to be good or not. So what’s the point? Why bother being good when it just gets more people close to me who’ll get hurt? Why did I ever decide to start caring? Why did I ever decide to make a sacrifice? Because I didn’t just sacrifice me, I sacrificed Arlo too. And you.”
“Arlo made his own decisions,” I explain “and so did I. You can’t be blamed for what happened.”
“It doesn’t matter who’s to blame!” she raises her voice “the facts are that we’ve been through so much pain, and not a single bit of it has been worth it. All it’s done is make things worse. The deal was that you have to make sacrifices to be good, but nobody said that being good doesn’t change anything. I mean, look at us. You think we’re making any kind of difference stuck in here? Because newsflash! Everything that’s happening here is only to serve Louden’s agenda. We can’t do anything to help the rebellion from in here. We’re puppets, and when Louden’s done with us he’ll kill us just like Arlo. Wake up, Amadrya. Look where being good got us all.”
And she turns back to the wall. I just stand, stepping away. I wish I could say she was wrong.
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Nov 7, 2019 7:30:20 GMT -5
Also I had another idea so I’m writing it XD)
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Nov 7, 2019 7:56:07 GMT -5
Another interview today. I’ve been practising all day, getting the lines right, trying to determine the best places to smile. I have spent a long time trying to stop my reactions from looking fake.
I’ve been taken by the guards and led to meet Louden. I’m already in the dress that he chose for me, and covered in makeup. I don’t even look like me anymore. Every freckle and blemish is gone, my lips are coated in waxy lipstick. Even new cheekbones have been carved out for me, not that it takes much effort anymore since they’re protruding more than they used to. I look...terrible. But the Capitol will love it.
Louden stands beside me, idly adjusting his suit. Smugness rolls off him in waves.
“How’s Slayte?” he asks, without a hint of genuine concern.
“Like you care,” I say “and like you don’t know. You’ve broken her heart, and made a career very angry, which is never a good decision.”
“Please,” he scoffs “she’s a career, I made her. I’ve controlled her entire life since she was born, practically. She’s even easier to control than you.”
I try to quell the rage inside me, which is why I don’t respond for a little while.
But I’ve been meaning to ask him something, and now is as good a time as any. So I don’t make eye contact with him, I stare straight ahead. We’ll be revealed to the cameras soon, so this has to happen fast.
“There’s something I want from you,” I say
“I thought you might have learned your lesson about making deals with me by now, my dear. You’d have to be quite stupid to make that same mistake again.”
I look at him at those words, my eyes blazing with a sudden anger.
“Yes,” I say wish mock politeness “but since you’ve started killing us I figured brains aren’t likely to save me.”
I turn to look straight ahead again.
“Fine. What is it that you want?” he asks
I lean over to him to whisper it, as much as I hate being close to him, before returning to the same position once again. I can sense the smile on his face even though I still refuse to look.
“Interesting. Very well, but you don’t get something for nothing. It’ll cost you.”
Anger flares within me again. Cost me what? I have nothing more to give. I’m already giving him what he wants by doing the interviews. But I don’t show my feelings. I just push the feelings down, swallow, and prepare for the cameras to start rolling. As I speak my next words I’m already lifting my chin, looking proud like Macaria always tells me to, like Holly would tell me to. Smiling for the camera.
“Let’s make a deal.” I say
——————————————
Macaria doesn’t look at me as I return from the interview and immediately go the sink to scrub off all of that disgusting makeup. It’s gross, but at least taking it off is quite satisfying. As soon as I’m done, though, I walk over to where she’s sitting, something clasped in one of my hands. I sit beside her, gently placing it on her knee, and watch her burst into fresh tears before wrapping me in a hug - something that shocks me so much that I go stiff.
It’s Alessandro’s tribute token, from the Arena.
“How did you get this?” she asks when she releases me.
“That’s for me to worry about,” I reassure her.
I hide one wrist behind my back, the bare wrist where the bracelet of mine used to be. My own tribute token. It’s not the only thing I gave to get that for Macaria, but it was worth it. She needs this far more than I need my own token anyway.
Of course I still owe Louden, and I don’t want to think about what he’ll ask me to do in payment for this, but I can’t worry about that yet.
Alessandro would have wanted this.
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Nov 10, 2019 17:09:46 GMT -5
Also let me know if there’s any other writing you’d like to see)
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Nov 12, 2019 14:35:37 GMT -5
I plan to get a chapter out today :3.)
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